A Love Retold
by Lady Knight 1512
Summary: Lily retells the story of her life with James stemming from childhood to old age. This is AU, so both are Muggles and neither of them die at the hands of Voldemort.


**A/N: OK, I should probably be studying, but while taking a break, I heard a couple of new songs, both by Taylor Swift, and was intrigued by the lyrics. So what did I do? I looked up the words and low and behold, a story was right there in my head waiting to be told. So here I am! LoL. I really hope you all enjoy this. I have another idea for a fic that I'll work on at a more opportune time. I also have another previously started piece that I have to finish. Look out for them.**

**Disclaimer: As always, nothing here is mine.**

**Please Note: This is based on the song 'Mary's Song (Oh My My My)' by Taylor Swift. A link to the lyrics can be found on my profile page.**

**Also, the central characters are actually James Potter and Lily Evans, although they have grown up together and are Muggles. They also didn't die. Just forget everything canon while reading this and you'll be fine!**

**This is told from Lily's POV.**

**88888888**

**A Love Retold**

We had grown up together, you and I, How could we not? Our parents were best friends, loyal to each other through everything. They had known each other in high school, and were an inseparable group of four. Of course, they paired off and had us, and became determined to make us the very best friends.

We lived at each other's houses and were baby sat by each other's parents when we were still young enough not to protest. We went to school together but you were still two years ahead of me.

My first day, I cried when you wouldn't let me play with you and your friends. You said that in school, we had to have other friends, and that we would play together after school instead. I walked away and sat by myself, sniffling, and despite your words, you still came and sat with me, and said I could play with you and your friends until I made new friends of my own. I gave you a watery smile, not really believing I'd have my own friends. You were right though. You were always right.

When I was seven years old and you were nine I decided your eyes were pretty. They were hazel, but I thought they sparkled like the stars I'd forever been fascinated by.

It was in the tree house that our fathers had built for us in your backyard. I remember looking up at you and meeting your eyes.

"Whattcha lookin' at Lil?' you asked.

My head tilted to the side like a birds, and replied, "Your eyes."

You were quiet for a moment. I think you were shocked. You didn't see why they appealed to me. "What about them?"

I shrugged and looked down at the blocks I had been stacking. You kept them up in that tree house even though I think that you thought they were childish. You still liked to build things. You could build anything.

"They're pretty, that's all."

You leapt to your feet so suddenly that I jumped. "What's wrong?" I asked.

Your face was scrunched up and your fists were raised like when you got into that fight at school with the boy who'd taken my favourite book.

"Don't call me pretty ever again," you said, and you were so angry that I laughed.

"I mean it! If you do I'll … I'll beat you up!"

I stopped laughing abruptly. You _could_ beat me up. You were bigger than me after all, so I promised not to say it again.

You never beat me up that day, or ever, for that matter.

I didn't realise then that you couldn't have harmed me if your life depended on it.

We walked home from school together everyday; you scuffing your feet and kicking stones, me skipping along.

One day, I turned to you and said, "James, my dad kisses my mum all the time."

He shrugged. "So? Mine does too."

"Well, why don't you kiss me?"

You stared at me with wide eyes. "What?"

"You should kiss me. I dare you!"

I saw you bite your lip. A dare was a serious thing, at least when you were ten.

I scrunched up my nose. "Come on! What are you? Scared?"

You glared at me. "No!"

"Well then?"

You took a breath and I moved my face towards yours. I stretched my neck as far as it would go.

I didn't close my eyes. I wanted to watch you do it. You closed yours though, as you leant towards me.

Seeing you approach though, I was suddenly scared. I pulled back and forced a laugh.

Your eyes popped open and I turned up our street and ran away.

I remember yelling back that I'd tricked you.

Those were the days when our whole world consisted of one block. The neighbours would smile as they watched one of us run down the street to the house of the other, and then back up the street together.

Those were the days when our fathers would joke about us being joined at the hip. My dad told yours how great it would be if we grew up and fell in love. Then they both laughed. Our mothers humoured them, but I don't think that our dads meant it.

You always treated me like I was a little girl. You protected me when I didn't need protecting, you bought me presents, you treated me like I was still the girl who'd dared you to kiss her.

It wasn't until I was sixteen that I think you realised.

It was to be my first school dance. It was the first magical night of my life and I never felt more excited, more happy than I did when I walked into the family room in my beautiful new dress, my mother trailing behind. My father smiled and I watched his eyes. I could see him remembering back, seeing me grow up all over again. Mum fussed with the back of my dress, making it sit correctly. You just stood there.

You looked like you'd been struck dumb. I felt proud that I'd been able to make you look like that.

It was you who had been assigned chauffer duty that night. My father's car had broken down the previous day and I had panicked, believing that I'd have no way to get to the dance.

My mother is renowned for her ability to think in distressing situations however. She called your mother, who called you down from your room, and asked you to drive me back and forth for the night. Of course, you were happy to oblige.

I had the time of my life at that dance, and you promised that the one at the end of my final year would be ten times better.

We went driving that night, along the river that bordered our sleepy little town.

I knew my parents wouldn't mind. They never worried if I was with you, and besides, I didn't want that night to end. I wanted to spend the rest of it with you.

You stopped the car and we looked out at the water.

The silence was nice, but it felt nicer in the car when you broke it. "Remember when we went to that fair? You were twelve and I was about fourteen. You won that set of gaudy beads."

I remembered. Of course I remembered. I nodded so you would continue.

"We buried them here, in the river bank. You said that those beads would stay there in the ground like a sort of time capsule. We would have to go back and get them."

I nodded again, not quite sure where you were going with the conversation.

You opened your car door. "Shall we go and see if they're still there?"

I laughed. "How do you expect me to walk through _that_" pointing at the river bank "in _these_?" indicating that sparkly, silver high heels on my feet.

"I'll carry you."

"What?!"

You shut your door and came around to my side. Opening my door, you pulled me out and into your arms. My feet never touched the ground.

You kicked my door shut and started off down the bank.

"We buried them under a tree, right? Do you remember what it looked like?"

I was still getting over being carried in his arms; one arm was under my knees, the other supported my back. Mine were around his neck.

"Lily?"

"Ummm… yeah. It resembled a hunched old woman."

"Of course!" You smiled down at me. "You chose it because you thought it looked like the witch in 'Snow White'."

"Right."

You continued walking a little further before you stopped. "There it is," you said, and I turned to look.

The tree was still there, as hunched as ever.

You lowered my feet to the ground and removed your coat so you could lay it over a fallen log.

"Here. Sit on that. I'll do the dirty work. We wouldn't want to get your pretty nails dirty, would we?"

I laughed and gladly sat. I'd been standing all evening and my legs were exhausted.

You kneeled in the dirt and picked up a mostly flat rock. You plunged it into the earth and began shifting it out of the way. Eventually, you came upon a small cloth bag, tightly drawn together with string.

You picked it up and dusted it off before opening it and looking inside. Looking up at me, you grinned. "Put your hands out."

I did and you upended the bag into them. A mixture of beads in varying shapes, sizes and colours spilled out. I grinned looking at them. He was right. They _were _gaudy.

You sat back on your heels. "You know, when I arrived at your house to pick you up, I was expecting a little girl in taffeta and Mary Jane's to emerge. It's stupid but I guess I missed the way you grew up."

You sounded serious, like you regretted your mistake.

I shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

You pushed yourself up suddenly and paced around, looking angry with yourself. "No Lily! It _does _matter! I didn't realise …"

"Realise _what_?"

You came and knelt in front of me. I could read the fear in your face, but even then, your hazel eyes still sparkled like the stars that gazed down at us.

"Lily … will you go out with me on Saturday night?"

I could have sworn that time stood still, but I could hear my own heart pounding in my ears. We'd been out before, but this was different. It wasn't like when you called me on Saturday evenings saying you were bored and asking if I wanted to catch the latest action flick at the cinema. This was _different_. This was serious.

I smiled slightly. "I'd like that."

You seemed to exhale. "Really?"

I nodded shyly and you smiled gently. Your hands came to rest on my waist and held me as you leaned forward and kissed me.

Everything was different after that night. We still did the things we'd done before, plus some more, but everything still changed. It was like we'd never been to the movies, or stopped at McDonalds, or just hung out beside the pool in my backyard.

My father wouldn't let you into my room anymore and told your parents that I wasn't to be found in yours under any circumstances. Your father laughed and our mothers rolled their eyes.

One night we got back from dinner where everything went wrong. We'd been dating for almost two years and I was graduating from school in less than two months.

You pulled the car into my driveway and turned to me, looking frustrated. I glared out the windshield, arms folded, content to ignore you.

"Lily, come on. You know I didn't mean what I said like that."

"Really? You sounded like you meant it."

You sighed impatiently. "Well I didn't. I'm sorry okay?"

"No."

"What do you mean 'no'?"

"Don't apologize because you think you have to. Do it only if you mean it."

"Of course I mean it!"

"It doesn't sound like it."

"Well –"

I didn't let you finish. I opened my door and walked up the porch steps to the front door.

I heard you shut your car door as you followed.

"Lily, don't walk away from me. Come on! Please?"

I let myself into the house and stared at him standing on the porch.

I slammed the door in your face, pretending that it didn't matter that I didn't get my goodnight kiss.

Waking up the next morning I remembered instantly what had happened and knew I'd behaved like a child. I knew you hadn't meant it, and I knew that I couldn't go on if we kept fighting.

Getting out of bed, I hurriedly dressed and flew out my bedroom door and down the stairs. I made a huge racket, but I didn't care then that I might wake my parents. I just needed to see you, apologize, beg you to forgive me.

I released the lock on the front door and pulled it open.

I stopped short.

You were sitting on the top step, shielding your eyes from the rising sun. Your car was still in the driveway and you wore the clothes you'd worn to dinner.

You turned to watch me standing in the doorway.

"Lily?"

The tears welled up in my eyes and I sniffed.

You were instantly on your feet. You came and put your arms around me and stroked my hair. You whispered, "I'm sorry Lily. I really am. Please forgive me?"

I hugged you hard. "Oh James. I'm sorry too. It was such a stupid thing to fight over."

You chuckled. "Well, it was my fault. Don't worry sweet. We'll be all right."

In those days, our fathers went around looking smug. They claimed that they'd seen the potential first, but you and I always agreed that our mothers had figured it out before they did.

We went out for ice-cream and sat our favourite park bench to eat them. I had mint and yours was chocolate fudge. You ate yours in what seemed to be three large bites. Mine took longer, but you were content to wait for me. That was how it always was.

You looked at me as I swallowed the end of my cone.

"Finished?"

"Yes. Thanks for the ice-cream James."

"My pleasure."

You didn't look away, and I was beginning to feel self conscious. What if I had ice-cream on my face?

I squirmed under your gaze and was about to ask what was wrong when you got down in front of me and kneeled on knee.

I accepted your proposal of course. I would have been insane to refuse. You were my life. You'd always been my whole life.

I remember how handsome you looked as I walked down that aisle towards you on my father's arm. I was only vaguely aware of the people around us. It seemed like the whole town had turned out for the event.

Our father's beamed with pride; our mother's held each other and cried.

We looked in each other's eyes.

You said "I do" then I did too.

We were declared man and wife.

You leaned in and gave me a kiss that was full of promises.

My parents moved out of our old house and got a smaller one. We moved into the house of our childhood, and _our_ children grew up in it.

Late at night, we'd rock our children to sleep on the front on which you'd held me and kissed me goodnight.

After all this time, it's still you and me.

This year I'll turn eighty-seven. You'll turn eighty-nine.

You stand with me on the front porch and I gaze up at the stars. I turn to you and look into your eyes.

"You know James, your eyes are still pretty. They still sparkle like stars."

You didn't threaten me as you had all those years ago in your long demolished tree house.

Instead, you smiled gently at me and kissed my lips.

**88888888**

**A/N: Well, there you have it! I like this actually. I hope you do to. It might read a bit weird, but it should sound like Lily is retelling their lives to James.**

**Once again, a link to the lyrics can be found on my profile page.**


End file.
